Broken Lute
by CasuallyScreaming
Summary: After the Mountain Incident, Geralt realizes that he needs Jaskier in his life and tracks him down to a small inn. He was hoping for an easy solution, maybe a quick and easy apology, but things are never that easy with Jaskier, are they?


The inn was small, but so was the town it was settled in, so Geralt hadn't been expecting much else. The size of the inn didn't matter. Geralt was only concerned about what was inside.

Or rather, it was _who _was inside that mattered.

Whenever Geralt entered a room, it typically dropped in noise levels for a few moments as people recognized him for what he was. The room would fill with hushed whispers before he swept his gaze over his new audience and they would nervously return to their previous chatter. Whenever he had Jaskier with him, it happened less often. Or maybe it never stopped happening and Jaskier was just enough of a distraction for him not to notice. But this time, Jaskier wasn't with him to save him from that.

This time, it appeared, he didn't need to be. Nobody seemed to notice the witcher's entrance, which was a rare feat. It only took a second to realize why.

Once again, Jaskier had managed to allow Geralt discreet entrance to a room without even trying. The bard himself was on stage, performing with all of the energy Geralt would expect of him. Everyone in the inn, including the barkeep, was completely enraptured by Jaskier's song. It was one Geralt didn't recognize but could tell it was about him anyway. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Geralt slowly meandered to the bar, watching as Jaskier finished his song. The audience went wild, clapping and cheering. During the noise, Geralt got the barkeep's attention and ordered food and drink for two. He glanced back at Jaskier, who bowed and laughed, acting all the part of a bard who didn't have a care in the world. But Geralt knew Jaskier, and he knew better. He could see the tiredness and the irritation that had settled just beneath the surface. Jaskier was a good actor, but not good enough to fool Geralt.

Geralt watched as Jaskier collected his coins and moved to a table in the corner. With the patrons still talking loudly amongst themselves about Jaskier's performance, Geralt still went unnoticed. Jaskier must have been in his own head as he scribbled in his notebook because he looked startled when Geralt put two pints of ale and two bowls of food in front of him. He looked up and met Geralt's eyes. His eyes went wide, then narrowed. He stayed silent.

Geralt decided to break the ice.

"I like the way you brood in the corner."

Jaskier was angry. Geralt could tell. It was obvious in the way he smelled and the way his eyebrows were drawn together. But Geralt could also tell that Jaskier was trying to suppress the small smile that tried to make its way onto his face.

Geralt tried again.

"I have three words if you want to hear — "

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked suddenly. He looked down at the ale and stew. Geralt wanted Jaskier to look at him instead, to give him his undivided attention like he used to. It was only fitting for his bard to pay attention to him.

Well, Geralt figured that he wasn't exactly _his _bard anymore. Not after what happened on the mountain. If Jaskier was still his bard, Geralt wouldn't have had to track him down to this inn in this small town, nestled away quietly somewhere, as if Jaskier had intentionally chosen a place that would be difficult to find him in. It wasn't difficult, but Geralt wasn't going to tell him that.

"Well, witcher?" Jaskier pressed, sounding even more annoyed.

Oh. And Geralt definitely wasn't going to tell Jaskier that he had spent weeks tracking the bard down, only taking contracts when he was in desperate need of some coin.

"Passing through," Geralt lied.

For the first time in his life, Jaskier was the one to reply with nothing but a "Hmm." It took Geralt by surprise, but he decided to press his luck.

"Those are for you," he said, gesturing to one of the pints and bowls.

"I gathered."

Hm. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Geralt took a seat across from Jaskier. The latter didn't object. Surely, a good sign. Not knowing what else to say, Geralt started on his meal. After a few minutes of Jaskier staring at the table, seeming less angry and more defeated, Geralt nudged the bowl in his direction.

This time, the corner of Jaskier's lip succeeded in quirking up, and he started eating too.

They ate in silence, Geralt simply enjoying Jaskier's presence, and Jaskier hopefully enjoying his stew. Meanwhile, Geralt tried to figure out what to do in order to convince Jaskier to come back with him.

Life on the road is boring when you have nothing but a horse. Roach is exceptional company, but there's only so much she can do to "replace" Jaskier. No one could _really _replace Jaskier. As much of a magnet for trouble as he is, Jaskier is Geralt's best friend. Geralt needed Jaskier back. Not for the entertainment, or the extra coin, or even the reputation. He needed Jaskier back for the way he made his days a little more bearable and the headaches a little less frequent.

Witchers do have feelings. They just repress and repress and lock them away in a box, because emotions can lead to stupid and reckless decisions. The problem, Geralt was realizing, was that whenever expressing your emotions actually _was _the smart thing to do (for instance, when trying to reclaim a bard,) it was almost impossible. Geralt didn't know how to tell Jaskier what he wanted. He didn't know what Jaskier needed to hear, or what actions he needed to take.

He was hopelessly unprepared for this.

Jaskier, for his part, stayed silent throughout the entire meal. He appeared to be eating slower than usual. Geralt hoped it didn't mean that Jaskier was trying to procrastinate their inevitable conversation. He seemed like he had calmed down a bit, but even after their bowls were empty, the silence stretched on. It was almost eerie to see Jaskier in this state. Silence and anger didn't suit him.

Geralt decided to try, yet again, to make a peace offering.

"Roach is in the stables," he said, gesturing vaguely.

That got Jaskier's attention at least, his head perking up ever-so-slightly, even if his expression hadn't changed. Geralt definitely wasn't the only one who liked Roach. He had caught Jaskier buying and sneaking treats to Roach on a few occasions when he thought he was safe from the witcher's view.

"You can go see her. If you'd like." He glanced toward the door and then looked back at Jaskier. "I know she misses you." The words Geralt wanted to say, _as do I, _went unsaid.

Jaskier seemed to debate it and then stood suddenly.

"I _will _go see Roach," he declared, and Geralt felt a tiny spark of hope. Jaskier narrowed his eyes slightly. "She always enjoys my presence, unlike others."

The spark died instantly.

"Jaskier," Geralt started. Jaskier looked at him expectantly. Geralt stayed silent, not knowing what to say or how to say it, but desperately racking his brain to figure it out.

He took too long.

Jaskier huffed. The anger was back suddenly, and it was quite possibly the angriest Geralt had ever seen Jaskier.

"If that's all then, I'll be taking my leave now." Without giving Geralt a chance to say whether or not it actually was all, Jaskier turned and headed out the door. Geralt slid a hand down the front of his face, groaning internally. He now had a few options. He could go find Jaskier outside, attempt conversation again, and try to get his bard back. Alternatively, he could retire for the night and hope Jaskier doesn't leave town before he wakes up. Finding him again wouldn't be difficult, but it would be cumbersome, and Geralt would rather get him back as soon as possible.

Geralt paid for a room, along with another cup of ale. He might as well give Jaskier some time with Roach. He could possibly find Jaskier in his room later, assuming this is the inn he was staying in.

He settled back at their table, sipping his ale and looking around the inn. It looked like people were starting to take notice of him, the excitement from a great performance having worn off. He grimaced, reaching for his pack, and his hand wrapped around something else.

Jaskier's lute.

Geralt let go immediately, almost as if it had burned him. It was the first time he had seen Jaskier forget his precious instrument anywhere, and that alone worried him more than the angry expression on Jaskier's face. He must have been angrier than he let on.

Geralt brought his stuff to his room, locked it up safely, and then headed outside. His decision on when to confront Jaskier had been made for him by the bard's own forgetfulness. That kind of irony was something Jaskier could write a song about.

Geralt found Jaskier almost immediately. True to his word, he was leaning against Roach, talking animatedly about something. One hand was moving through the air as if to emphasize his points, and the other was running through Roach's mane. He still seemed angry, but a little less so. Geralt couldn't understand why Jaskier's emotions were so inconsistent. It was almost as if he couldn't make up his mind about how angry he wanted to be.

As Geralt got closer, he could hear what Jaskier was saying.

"What is he even _doing _here? I know he isn't just passing through, he's a shit liar," Jaskier babbled. Roach neighed, almost as if in agreement. Geralt was, honestly, a little offended. He was _not _a shit liar. If anything, Jaskier was. Honestly. All of the embellished songs and Geralt is the shit liar?

That was when Jaskier took notice of Geralt approaching. He quickly put both of his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Is my time with your dear horse up?" He demanded.

Geralt stayed silent and held up the lute. Jaskier turned a little pink, obviously embarrassed about leaving it behind, and stepped forward to grab it.

"Thank you," he said stiffly, taking it from Geralt. "But this doesn't change anything. Neither does the food from earlier. I'll pay you back."

"That isn't necessary," Geralt said.

A moment of silence passed.

"How have you been?"

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. The anger was coming back, Geralt could tell.

"Fine. No shit to shovel recently, though. I suppose that has made it a bit boring," Jaskier snapped. Geralt almost flinched.

"Jas, I don't — "

"No," Jaskier cut him off. "You don't get to call me that. I'd rather if you didn't talk to _or_ about me at all, in fact. You lost your right."

Jaskier's grip was tightening on his lute.

"I'm sorry," Geralt tried. "Come back with me."

Jaskier scoffed. "Oh, so now you're going to tell me what to do?" There was a new fire in his eyes. The anger rolled off of him in waves, and Geralt felt like he was suffocating in the smell. "_No._ I refuse. I decline. I will _not _be going anywhere with you. Ever again."

"What do you _want,_ Jaskier?" Geralt asked, beginning to feel desperate. "I apologized. That's what I'm _supposed _to do, I thought that's what you wanted. What else do you need me to do?"

The anger in Jaskier's eyes dulled for a moment before coming back in full force, bright and fiery.

"I want you to actually apologize! I want my best friend to actually want me around!" Jaskier took a step forward. Geralt noticed his grip on the lute getting even tighter and his voice getting even higher in pitch with anger. "I want you to know what you did wrong!"

Geralt was confused. He did know what he had done wrong, didn't he? He had said all those mean things to Jaskier and effectively sent him packing straight out of his life. What else had he done?

Apparently, Jaskier could see Geralt's hesitation, because he laughed bitterly.

"Right! Of course you don't know! You're so oblivious!"

"I'm not oblivious," Geralt protested. "I know what I did. I insulted you and treated you poorly. Even before the mountain. I'm sorry."

Jaskier looked borderline hysterical now, and he needed to calm him down. His knuckles were white around the neck of his lute, and his teeth were clenched. His entire body was nothing but tension. Geralt had never seen Jaskier look angrier than he did now.

For the first time in his life, Geralt felt so incredibly small.

"Now you're lying to me!" Jaskier practically shouted. "I know you don't know what you did! If you knew and haven't apologized yet — "

"Jas — "

"You'd be a _monster!_"

Without warning, Jaskier swung the lute at Geralt. Too stunned to defend himself, he let it hit him in the arm. Compared to what he had been through in the past, the blow was nothing, and he barely felt it. But Jaskier's words, calling him a monster? That was painful. Geralt felt all the air leave his lungs. This was different from the petty insults they'd thrown at each other when bickering. This was more than a pie without filling. This was almost on par with the mountain incident. Not there yet, but close.

He stared at Jaskier, eyes wide and unblinking.

Jaskier stood there, breathing heavily, eyes just as wide as Geralt's. He looked surprised, either by his words or actions, and opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. Instead, he looked down at his lute, which had broken against Geralt's arm. The neck was snapped in half.

"Shit," he breathed out.

"Shit," Geralt agreed. His voice was quieter than he intended, and he realized that he sounded almost as small as he felt.

Jaskier pursed his lips and dropped the broken lute on the ground. After a moment, he nudged it with his foot. He looked to the side, then behind him, and then above him. It occurred to Geralt after a moment that he was just avoiding eye contact. It looked like all the anger had left Jaskier, and now he just looked utterly exhausted. Geralt didn't know how humans could handle the sudden shifts in emotion the way they did. The few times Geralt had felt such strong emotions, it had always left him feeling sick. Jaskier, in the past hour, had appeared to go through more emotional changes than Geralt had in the past few months.

Geralt stepped forward and reached a hand out. He hesitated for a moment, but Jaskier made no move to stop him, so he let it fall on Jaskier's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is … hard for me. I don't know what to do."

Jaskier huffed out a small laugh.

"Understatement," he said. Then it felt like something shifted. Jaskier's shoulders tensed. His eyebrows furrowed out of confusion rather than anger.

"Are you … actually going to try?" Jaskier asked softly.

Geralt tightened his grip on Jaskier's shoulder, and their eyes met for the first time since the lute was broken. They stared at each other for a few moments before Jaskier cracked a small smile and then glanced at Roach.

"We can go back to a room," Jaskier said. "I think Roach has already seen quite enough of you actually displaying human emotion."

The moment the words left his mouth, Geralt winced, and Jaskier frowned.

"Sorry," he said. "I know you have emotions. You just don't know how to handle them."

"I know," Geralt said. He slowly bent over, picked up the broken instrument, and led Jaskier to his room.

They spent a few minutes in silence. Jaskier was laying on the bed with his eyes closed. The broken lute was on the bed next to him, along with the case and his pack. Geralt's own things had been relocated to the floor in a corner of the room.

Geralt was standing in a different corner, trying desperately to figure out what exactly Jaskier had meant. Jaskier liked to use flowery language sometimes to intentionally confuse Geralt, but this was different. This wasn't Jaskier being an ass. This was something glaringly obvious that Geralt was just _missing._ He wanted Jaskier to tell him what it was. He wanted to be able to apologize and be done with it so they could go back to normal. Maybe better than normal. Geralt would try to be less mean, and maybe Jaskier would enjoy traveling with him more. They could take breaks from traveling and contracts, even. Whatever Jaskier wanted.

Jaskier rolled over in bed and looked at Geralt with a pitying expression.

"You can come lie down, you know."

Geralt didn't know. He didn't make a move.

"You still don't know what you did, do you?" Jaskier sighed.

"I was harsh. On the mountain. I … said a lot of things I didn't mean," Geralt said. He looked away from Jaskier. "I forced you out of my life when I needed more than before. I don't know what else I did wrong."

Jaskier made a strangled sort of noise, and Geralt looked back up at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Geralt cut him off.

"Jaskier, I truly am sorry. For everything. The mountain and before the mountain and whatever else I did," Geralt said. Jaskier tried again to say something, but Geralt continued talking. "I just want you to come back with me. I'm not telling you to, you can decide if you want to, but … I miss you, Jas."

Jaskier sat in stunned silence, staring at Geralt. After a few moments, he chuckled.

"I always did think Jas was the stupidest nickname," Jaskier said, "But I can't expect more from the man who named a horse _Roach_."

Geralt stayed silent. He had already said too much, more than he meant to, in a desperate attempt to get Jaskier back. He felt awful. All of these emotions he was feeling made him feel sick, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down, maybe with Jaskier in his arms.

Maybe he wanted things to be _more _than better before. Maybe he wanted Jaskier to forgive him and be more than just his best friend again.

Oh. _Oh. _Maybe there was a reason he spent so much time looking for him.

Jaskier stood up and walked towards Geralt.

Maybe there was a reason he was so desperate to have him back.

Jaskier stopped inches from Geralt. They stood, facing each other in silence for a minute. Jaskier looked like he was contemplating something. Geralt was having a crisis of sorts. It isn't easy to realize you're in love with someone. Especially when they're so angry at you that they would break their prized possession over you. Riding with Jaskier, wanting him but unable to have him, might be the end of Geralt. It would be torture.

"I changed my mind," Geralt said, suddenly and stiffly.

Jaskier looked confused. "What?"

"You don't have to come with me. I can — I have Roach. She's good company."

Jaskier frowned. "What has gotten into you?"

"I — "

"No, you stop your rambling. You're starting to act like me." Jaskier put his hands on his hips and leaned forward, searching Geralt's eyes. "Tell me what you're thinking. What's wrong with you?"

"I can't," Geralt said, feeling as if the air was being forced out of his body.

"Geralt, you're _scaring _me. And not because you're a big bad witcher," Jaskier said. "I know I'm still mad at you, and maybe you're upset with me, but you should come sit down, okay?"

"I'm not upset with you," Geralt managed to say.

"Okay, that's good," Jaskier said as he grabbed Geralt's hand and led him to the bed.

They sat down next to each other.

"Look," Jaskier began. "I know this is hard for you. You aren't used to handling strong emotions, are you?"

Geralt shook his head slowly.

"Do you want me to just tell you why I was so angry?"

Geralt looked at Jaskier and didn't say anything. He was so tired. He hadn't felt this tired in a long time.

Jaskier must have taken the silence for a yes.

"Geralt, I wasn't angry because you said all those mean things. That's just what happens when someone is upset."

Jaskier fiddled with his pants legs, looking a little uncomfortable.

"I was upset because I left. Because you let me. I knew it was stupid to go alone, but I did anyway because I didn't want you to see me so upset and to know how sad I was." Jaskier looked up at Geralt, who felt like his heart was constricting. "I was sad because you didn't try to stop me. Or to come find me and make sure I was okay. It felt like you knew something could have happened, but you didn't care whether or not it did."

If Geralt could cry, he had a feeling he might.

"Jas—"

Jaskier took a deep breath, looking like _he _was about to cry. "I was sad because I knew that you didn't mean what you said, but I hoped you would find me intentionally. And when you never did, it contradicted everything. It felt like you were okay with me leaving. Like you really _did _mean what you said."

Jaskier's grip tightened on his pants leg.

"I was sad, and then that eventually turned into anger. And then you just find me, by pure coincidence, and start acting like everything is fine when it _isn't. _And then you tell me to come back with you as if you _do _want me, and it's so confusing, Geralt, and now you're changing your mind _again_ and I just can't tell if you actually like me or if you like what I do for you!"

Geralt didn't know what to say. He watched in silence as Jaskier stared at the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks silently.

That's what he did. It made sense now.

He reached over and grabbed Jaskier. He made a wet noise of surprise as Geralt pulled him into his arms and then laid down, pulling Jaskier's back into his chest as they now lay on their sides.

"This is hard," Geralt said softly, "But I'm going to try. Okay?"

"Okay," Jaskier sniffled. He sounded hesitant.

"I didn't mean what I said on the mountain. I was angry and took it out on you. I didn't go after you because I was sure that you were done with me after I treated you like that." Geralt held Jaskier a little tighter. "I'm always mean to you. I insult you constantly. But you've never left before. The mountain was different. It was harsher. You left. I didn't know what to do.

"I didn't find you by coincidence. I sought you out. I spent weeks traveling and searching. I even enlisted Yennefer's help to find you."

Jaskier squirmed, and Geralt let him turn over, looking the witcher in the face.

"This is going to be harder if you're looking at me," Geralt warned.

"But not impossible, right?" Jaskier asked, barely above a whisper.

Geralt managed a small smile. "I suppose not."

He was quiet for a few moments as he thought about how to continue. Jaskier's eyes never left his face.

"I … I was desperate to get you back. I missed you. I missed your conversations, as one-sided as they were, and I missed your songs. I was lonely by myself with Roach," Geralt said.

"But you just said you didn't want me to go with you anymore," Jaskier said.

Geralt took a breath in.

"I realized something today," he said.

A breath out.

"This is a lot," he said. "It's difficult."

"I know," Jaskier said softly.

Geralt pursed his lips. "I … care about you. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"I can take care of myself, I took fencing lessons, I can — "

"I don't want to get hurt myself, either," Geralt said, and Jaskier stopped talking immediately. His brow furrowed in confusion. "I care about you … a lot. More than … friends."

Jaskier's eyes were wide. Geralt grimaced. "This is a lot," he repeated.

Jaskier nodded silently, eyes still wide.

Geralt swallowed. "I don't know if I could handle traveling with you and having you so close to me without actually _having _you as mine."

Jaskier stared. Geralt stared back. He could feel himself shrinking in on himself. His heart was pounding. He was dumbly aware of just how much he had spoken at once, and it made him feel insecure. He wasn't used to feeling that way, and he didn't care for it. Jaskier's face was getting steadily redder and redder until it was the darkest Geralt had ever seen it before.

"You…" Jaskier started, shaking his head. "You are so _daft!_"

Geralt blinked owlishly.

"You never take anyone else into consideration!" Jaskier jammed a finger against Geralt's chest, and Geralt couldn't move. "What if I was in love with you too! Then what? You just decide to ruin my chances to get with a hot witcher just because you think maybe I don't return your feelings?"

Geralt sat up quickly, his head spinning.

"I — I don't —"

"Yeah you don't, you _oaf!_" Jaskier exclaimed, sitting up as well. "Geralt of fucking Rivia, I have loved you since I found you in that tavern and I will be _damned _if you ruin my chances of getting with you because of your cripplingly low self-esteem!"

"Uh," Geralt said.

Jaskier stared at him angrily.

"I, uh," Geralt tried again.

Jaskier groaned. "I can't believe I could have been dating you this whole time, since — when did you realize you loved me, after the djinn, maybe — since the goddamn djinn experience! Fuck you!"

"Uh."

"Gods above!" Jaskier exclaimed. "You're just _so _eloquent today."

"That was a lot of talking," Geralt protested, finding his voice to defend himself.

Jaskier's expression softened.

"It was," he said. "Thank you for doing that. So honestly. So openly. You must have felt so vulnerable."

Geralt nodded, face feeling hot. If witchers could blush, his face would be bright red.

"Well," Jaskier said, "Now I get to rub it in your face! As punishment for what you've put me through!"

"I'd rather if you didn't," Geralt said.

"If you want me to be quiet, you're going to have to make me! I've gone far too long without charming you with the soothing sounds of my voice. You even said you missed it!"

In response, Geralt shoved his mouth against Jaskier's. The bard made a noise of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss.

And then Geralt pulled away.

"I'm very tired," he said.

Jaskier laughed.

"Actually expressing your emotions for once will do that to you," he said.

"Hmm," Geralt said. He rolled out of bed.

"Wait, I think that's the first time I heard you do that today," Jaskier realized.

"I thought it would make you angrier if I did it," Geralt explained, taking off his armor.

"It would have."

"Hm."

Jaskier frowned indignantly. "That doesn't mean you can do it all the time now just because I'm not angry anymore!"

Geralt climbed back into bed and pulled Jaskier close.

"Jas. I really am sorry. For everything."

Jaskier chuckled. "I know. It's okay. I'm sorry too."

For the first time since the mountain, Geralt slept soundly.

And when he woke up to see his bard next to him and a repaired lute on the chair next to the bed — most likely courtesy of Yennefer, somehow — Geralt felt content.


End file.
